All Chapters of Across The Ice: Falling for my ex’s biggest rival: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Six in the morning should be illegal. The sky hadn’t even committed to being morning yet, stuck in that gray in-between like it couldn’t decide what it wanted to be, and I stood outside Easton’s training facility with a cup of hot chocolate warming my hands, trying to convince myself this was a reasonable life choice. Coffee and I had tried once. It ended badly. Hot chocolate had never betrayed me, and at this hour, loyalty mattered. My phone read 5:57 a.m. Three minutes left. I shifted my weight, watching my breath fog in the cold, already certain Dean Mercer would be here before six. He seemed like the type who arrived early just to make sure he was early. I muttered something about never agreeing to another six a.m. assignment again, mostly to the cup in my hands, when a voice cut in from behind me. “You didn’t have much of a choice.” I turned too quickly and nearly sloshed hot chocolate onto my sleeve. Dean stood a few feet away, dressed in a black hoodie and gray sweatpants,

“Yeah.” It came out too fast. I heard it as soon as I said it and almost wanted to grab it back, like I’d answered a question I hadn’t fully understood yet. Dean paused just long enough to check if I meant it. “I mean…” I lifted my notebook, half laughing at myself. “The interview’s technically done. I’ve got enough for the feature.” He gave a small nod. “Good.” The hallway settled into a quiet that wasn’t awkward so much as aware, distant voices, the hum of overhead lights, the weight of my notebook still in my hands like it mattered more than it did. Dean checked his watch, then looked back at me. “Have you eaten?” I blinked. “What?” “Breakfast.” He adjusted the strap of his bag, already moving forward in his own logic. “There’s a diner a few minutes from campus. Good food. It’s quiet.” He didn’t ask me to come. He didn’t need to. The invitation was already there, steady and unforced, like he’d simply made room for me in whatever came next. “I’d like that,” I said,

I dropped my bag the second I got into my dorm and let it hit the floor harder than necessary. My shoulders felt heavy in that dull, lingering way that comes after a long day that wasn’t bad, just… full. I crossed to my bed and fell onto it face-first, pressing my cheek into the pillow like I could sink into it and disappear for a minute. I stayed there, breathing in the faint smell of detergent, letting everything from the morning come back in pieces instead of forcing it into something neat. My phone buzzed beside me. I didn’t need to look, but I did anyway. AVA CALLING. Of course. I answered without moving. “Hi.” “Well?” I laughed. “Hello to you too.” “No,” she said, already halfway into interrogation mode. “I’ve been waiting all day. I want everything.” “You’re exhausting.” “And you’re avoiding.” “…Fine.” I stared up at the ceiling and started from the beginning, walking her through the assignment, Dean, the interview that didn’t feel like one, and then breakfast. She cu

My alarm went off at five, sharp and unforgiving, and for once I didn’t argue with it. I silenced it before it could escalate and lay there for a second, already awake in a way that felt unfamiliar—yesterday had been enough of a lesson. I wasn’t about to repeat it. My phone buzzed just as I set it down. Unknown number. I opened the message, expecting something routine, and instead found: Hi. It’s Dean. Melissa gave me your number. You don’t have to come in this early today. I figured we could finish the interview after practice this evening instead. Hope that’s okay. I read it twice, slower the second time, as if the meaning might shift under scrutiny. It didn’t. It was straightforward, practical, and unmistakably him. A small smile slipped in before I could stop it. Of course Melissa had handed over my number. I would have done the same. I typed back before I could overthink it. That works perfectly. Thank you. And thanks for not giving up on the interview after yesterday. The ty

The skates in Dean’s hands looked less like sports equipment and more like a threat to my well-being. I glanced between them and his entirely too calm expression. “You’re joking.” “I’m not.” “I’ve never done this before.” “I know.” “I could die.” “You won’t.” “That’s exactly what people say before someone dies.” His mouth twitched, amusement slipping through despite his attempt to stay serious, and he sat on the bench like this was the most ordinary plan in the world, setting the skates down in front of me. “Come here.”I glanced around the empty arena as if someone else might volunteer. “There isn’t anyone else you can teach?” “No.” “What terrible luck.” “Iris.” “Hm?” “Sit.” I dropped onto the bench with a quiet laugh, shaking my head. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.” “You already did.” “I was emotionally manipulated.” “I suggested.” “You suggested with confidence.” “That usually works.” “It really shouldn’t.” Before I could protest